


His Intense Gaze

by goalielover_8 (tillyenna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Smut, stretching as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/goalielover_8
Summary: Tristan and Carter are training together in Edmonton at the moment. They're left to cool down and stretch on their own, and Tristan is faced with alone time with the most beautiful man in the NHL
Relationships: Carter Hart/Tristan Jarry
Comments: 24
Kudos: 46





	His Intense Gaze

“Alright boys,” Their trainer speaks, “I need to head off early today, are you boys ok to cool down alone?”

Tristan shoots a look at Carter, who shrugs, and they both nod at their trainer, “Sure,” Tristan says, “It’s just stretches, we can help each other.”

Their trainer heads out the door, leaving the two of them in the quiet of the gym. Tristan tries to focus in on himself, not on the pure distraction that is Carter Hart. It’s impossible half the time, Carter is so beautiful, the way his hair falls across his soft brown eyes, his porcelain skin, his insane eight-pack, he’s nothing but a walking distraction.

Still, Tristan stretches his leg above his head, trying to ease out his ham strings, eyes closed, breathing deeply into the stretch.

“Here.” A low voice says in his ear, and then there are hands on his calf, pushing him further into his stretch. He can’t open his eyes, he knows what will be staring down at him, Carter’s gorgeous brown eyes.

“Breathe through it,” Carter says softly, pressing harder, as Tristan breathes through the pleasure pain of the stretch, feeling the release in his muscles even as it burns.

The pain is the only thing stopping him from getting hard, the burn of the stretch the only thing tamping down his arousal as Carter leans over him.

Eventually, Carter releases the stretch, “Other side.” He says softly.

Tristan nods, daring to open his eyes as he puts his leg down, letting Carter lift the other one, still, Carter’s ever penetrating gaze is too much for him, and he can feel the blush rising on his cheeks, he turns his head to the side so he doesn’t have to look directly at him.

“You’re doing great Jar,” Carter says softly, “Breathe through it for me.”

Tristan nods, and takes a breath, he avoids looking at Carter’s face but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel the places his hands are on his skin like a brand, the feeling of their bodies pressed up against each other. He almost doesn’t want the stretch to end, but it does, Carter releasing his leg, but then, to his surprise, the other goalie taps him on the hip.

“Turn over,” Carter orders him, “You need to do your hip flexors, they were looking pretty tight earlier.”

Tristan’s blush deepens at the thought that Carter was noticing him that intensely, but he does as instructed, turning over, and splaying his knees out to the side, leaning forward onto his elbows. There’s no mistaking this position, his ass presented in the air for Carter, his legs splayed wide. Then Carter moves forwards, his arms coming to press down on Tristan’s lower back, and that means their crotches are perfectly aligned, and if Carter would just move forward an inch from where he’s knelt in between Tristan’s legs, he’d be pressing his cock up against Tristan’s ass. Even just the thought of it is too much for Tristan and he lets out a little whimper.

“You ok Jar?” Carter asks softly, “Not hurting you too much am I?”

Tristan shakes his head furiously. He can’t turn around now, can’t stop now, because nothing will hide the erection that he’s suddenly sporting.

“Of course not,” Carter smooths his hands over Tristan’s back, still pressing down, but stroking comfortingly as well, “You’re doing so well.”

That causes another whimper to escape from Tristan’s lips, humiliating and pathetic.

Carter hums softly, amusement evident, “I just need to move a moment.” He tells Tristan, and then he’s shifting forward and finally pressing their bodies together, and Tristan can feel that he’s not the only one who’s hard, and Carter’s red hot erection presses through his shorts against Tristan’s ass.

“Fuck.” Tristan lets his forehead fall forwards to the floor, his arms shaking with the combination of keeping himself supporting and the intense desire that is flooding through his veins.

“Now,” Carter says, his voice deceptively calm, sliding his hands underneath Tristan’s shirt, his hands soothing up and down Tristan’s sides, “I know we shouldn’t,” he scrapes a little with blunt nails, causing Tristan to shiver, “We’re supposed to be rivals,” he leans forward, pressing a kiss to Tristan’s shoulder, “But Jar, I want you so much.”

It’s too much for Tristan, he collapses out of the stretch, and only Carter’s hands on his waist stop him from collapsing to the floor completely. Instead, Carter, who is deceptively strong, flips him over onto his back, pressing down on top of him until he’s breathing into the air above his mouth, their erections rubbing loosely against each other.

“Please.” Tristan begs, “Hartsy, please.”

Carter grins at him, and bends down to capture his mouth in a kiss, his tongue plundering Tristan’s mouth, his hand threading through Tristan’s hair. For the moment, there is nothing but the slick sound of kissing as they writhe against each other on the floor of the gym.

“What do you want?” Carter asks him, breaking away from the kiss.

“Anything,” Tristan begs senselessly, “God Hartsy, you are so fucking beautiful, anything you’ll give me.”

To Tristan’s surprise, Carter blushes a little, ducking his head as if he’s embarrassed and then straightening up for another kiss, sucking Tristan’s tongue into his mouth. Suddenly, he sits up, and tugs his shirt over his head.

Tristan can’t help himself, he reaches out and traces a fingertip across the groove of Carters abs, they’re breath taking, and he can’t quite believe he gets to touch them.

“I want to fuck you.” Carter tells him, standing up, “Stay there while I grab stuff from my bag.”

Tristan flushes bright red, but nods, sitting up to take his shirt off. By the time Carter is back with a condom and a bottle of lube, he’s also wriggled out of his gym shorts.

“Good boy,” Carter tells him, “Now turn around.”

Tristan blushes, because that leaves him facing the mirror, but Carter comes up behind him, making eye contact with him in the mirror, and sliding his legs apart.

Tristan feels his blush furthering as Carter slides his legs so far apart he’s back in the splits, and then, one hand between his shoulder blades pushes him so he’s flat against the floor.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Carter admits, sliding a finger between Tristan’s buttocks, “Never known anyone flexible enough to do it.” He lets out a little chuckle, “Apart from me, of course.”

The next thing Tristan knows, the finger sliding against his hole is lubed, wet and cold and pressing in. He whimpers and squirms, but all that does is stretch him further. Carter keeps him in place, with one hand pressing against his back, the other, sliding one finger in and out of his hole, tortuously slowly, all the while gazing at him in the mirror.

“Fuck,” Carter breathes as he goes to slide in a second finger, “Have you even done this before Jar?”

Tristan nods, he’s not a virgin, even if he’s gagging for it like one. The position he’s in means his cock is brushing against the rubber matting in the gym, but he can’t even flex his hips to get any friction.

“Your fucking ass Jar,” Carter leans down and brushes his teeth against the globe of one ass cheek, barely even a bite, but then he clearly likes what he sees, and he bites down hard as he slides a third finger into Tristan’s ass.

It’s impossible not to moan, the burn in his ass, and his hips, and the press of Carter pushing his face into the floor, Tristan feels completely and thoroughly owned by Carter Hart. “Please,” he begs, “Hartsy please, I want your cock.”

Carter nods, and pulls his fingers out of him, grabbing his hips with both hands and dragging him up onto his knees, still splayed in the splits, but this time his ass lifted off the floor.

Tristan can see in the mirror as Carter quickly strips out of his gym shorts, and the rolls the condom onto his long thick cock, he feels the pressure as Carter lines the head of his cock up with his ass, and then can do nothing but moan in pure pleasure as Carter slides into him with one long smooth stroke, both hands grabbing at Tristan’s ass.

“Fuck,” Carter mutters, low and husky, “Your ass is so tight Jars.”

As Carter starts to set a punishing pace, thrusting in and out of him, Tristan dares to lift his head and meet Carter’s penetrating gaze in the mirror. Even with what Carter is doing to him, meeting his eyes is still the most erotic thing that Tristan has ever experienced, those beautiful brown eyes. He’s never been more glad that he and Carter are at opposite ends of the rink, because there’s no way he’d be able to concentrate with those eyes baring into his soul.

Tristan can feel his orgasm building already, his muscles shaking with the power of it, he knows it’s not going to take a lot to push him over the edge with the head of Carter’s cock rubbing against his prostate with every stroke.

“Please,” he begs, for what feels like the thousandth time, “Carter, please.”

“I’ve got you,” Carter whispers, bending over him voice hot and gentle in his ear he snakes a hand around to brush against the head of Tristan’s cock. That’s all it takes and he’s coming all over the floor, not a thought to the mess he’s making, clenching hard around Carter’s cock until Carter is joining him, thrusting into him hard and shaking with the power of his own orgasm.

Tristan’s grateful that Carter moves him from his stretch before collapsing on top of him, and even though he’s just had the man inside of him, he blushes as he meets Carter’s powerful gaze. “Thank you.” He mutters, breathing hard.

Carter laughs, soft and low, and reaches out to brush a lock of hair off Tristan’s forehead, “Any time Jar,” he says gently, “I mean that.”

“Can I…” Tristan starts to ask, and then blushes heavily, “Could I have a kiss?” he forces himself to say.

Carter hums, like he’s considering it, before leaning down and capturing Tristan’s lips in a kiss. “Two minutes,” he tells him, in between kisses, “And then we should clean up, before anyone comes looking for us.”

Tristan blushes, suddenly acutely aware that they are both naked and in the middle of their gym, but he snuggles into Carter’s arms none the less, “Two minutes then,” he agrees, letting himself relax into Carter’s embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh so this is my first fic i've posted. Um, hope it's ok, and tagged ok.


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